


Friday I'm in Love

by kooili



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arguing, F/F, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Ring-verse origin story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-24 11:19:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13810098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kooili/pseuds/kooili
Summary: It all begins on a blue Monday on AAU. A disagreement leads to an argument which leads to something that's going to follow them all the way to Friday.





	1. I Don't Care if Monday's Blue

**Author's Note:**

> As might be obvious from the song the title is taken from, there will be one chapter a day this week.

“Mr Di Lucca?”

Raf’s head snapped upwards at the sound of his name in that familiar crisp voice.

“Yes?”

“You have a patient with a possible aneurysm of the splenic artery.” Serena’s voice was deceptively casual but Raf knew better, from experience, than to take it on face value.

He replied with a vague nod. “She fell off her bike and hit her side hard against a hydrant. ED FAST scans indicate some damage but we’re still waiting on a CT to confirm the extent.”

“So what are you doing about it?” A distinctly hard edge was starting to form round the corners of her words.

Raf blinked. This wasn’t and, he was certain, nor would it be the last time he felt that nervous churn in his belly. There wasn’t a logical explanation - he’d pondered over it often enough to be sure of the fact. It was possible that Serena Campbell would always have the inexplicable ability to make him feel like an inexperienced F1 whenever she used that tone of voice.

“I…” He had barely begun before Serena cut off him off.

“Why is the patient still occupying bay,” Serena craned her head to check, “three, instead of having the scans done?”

“The scanner room is backed up and Ms Wolfe said fifteen minute obs until we get a free space should be sufficient.”

Serena arched an eyebrow. “Did she now?”

Raf nodded. “The patient is relatively stable and since this is a trauma injury…”

“I’d call it a vascular injury.”

“Either way, the patient is being managed so what’s the problem?” a voice interjected from behind causing Serena to swivel her head.

Bernie stood two feet away, arms folded, a questioning look on her face.

Serena answered, almost sweetly. “I was just asking Mr Di Lucca why we’ve not already had the injury fully assessed. She should be in theatre by now if the artery is on the brink of rupturing, don’t you think?”

“Yes, if it were, but I don’t think it is.”

Raf could almost hear the crackle in the air when Bernie took a step closer and kept her gaze level with Serena’s piercing look.

“I, uhmm, think Dr Digby said earlier she needed a consult about a patient.” He backed away slowly but he needn’t have bothered. Neither woman noticed his relieved scamper towards the opposite end of the ward.

Serena picked up the tablet Raf had left on the nurses’ station and studied the image for a moment. “I disagree. Look, there…” She tilted the tablet towards Bernie and pointed at the centre of the screen with her middle finger.

Bernie leaned forward and stared at the display. She frowned and squinted for a few seconds before looking up. “That might be something but we can’t be sure until we do the scan.”

“I’m not arguing about that. I just don’t think we should be twiddling our thumbs waiting in a queue when her artery is within a hair’s width of giving way.”

“Are you suggesting I don’t have the patient’s best interests at heart, Ms Campbell?”

Their eyes met again briefly, just long enough to silently agree that they should adjourn the conversation to the privacy of the office.

****

“I don’t understand what the problem is. You’re the one who’s always telling me not to be so gung-ho.”

Serena raised an eyebrow. “There’s a difference between not being gung-ho and leaving a patient who has potentially life threatening injuries waiting just because you’re too busy to pick up the phone and call CT.”

“I have called,” Bernie answered through gritted teeth, “several times,” she emphasised, “but they are really backed up right now. One of the scanners is down for maintenance and there are more urgent cases ahead of our patient.”

“Oh it’s _our_ patient now, is it?” Serena couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “I would have thought a vascular surgeon should have been the first port of call in an injury like this. Not a mere afterthought three hours later.”

Bernie stared back before letting loose a loud snort. “You’re upset because I didn’t ask for your opinion?”

“Don’t flatter yourself Ms Wolfe. My ego is a lot healthier than that,” Serena replied smoothly as she picked up the receiver of the phone on her desk, “even if yours isn’t.”

“What are you doing?” Bernie frowned, confused.

Serena didn’t  answer. She dialed a number, clearly from memory and was rewarded almost instantly with a soft murmur on the other end of the line.

“Hi Jan, it’s Serena. How are things down in radiology?” Serena smiled at the reply and the warmth ebbed into her voice. “Same here, no rest for the wicked and all that. Listen,” She turned and leaned up against the edge of the desk, “I’ve got a bit of a favour to ask. I don’t suppose you could squeeze a patient onto your list just now, could you?”

Bernie pricked her ears and could just about pick up the protesting response.

Serena brushed it off like a fleck of fluff. “Yes, I know, but I was hoping to get the patient into theatre this afternoon and it would really help if I didn’t have to go in blind.” There was a pause, then a reply that drew a throaty chuckle “No, no… the rumours are right. I’m just not quite _that_ good.” Bernie could now pick up the sound of laughter streaming through the receiver without even trying.

The smile on Serena’s face grew into full blown grin. “You’re are a life saver, my dear. I’ll send the patient straight down and,” Bernie could almost swear the timbre of her voice was dropped deliberately, “yes, drinks will be on me at Albie’s.”

Serena placed the receiver back into its cradle and pushed herself onto her feet, smiling smugly. “That’s that sorted then, isn’t it Ms Wolfe?”

Bernie allowed herself an internal sigh of relief, knowing that they would now be able to treat the patient sooner rather than later, but she couldn’t help her next thought.

_The end justifies the means._

That niggly phrase sprung to mind and she tried brushing it off as a throwaway cliche under the circumstances. For some inexplicable reason, she was annoyed by Serena’s method of solving their little predicament.

“Easy for some,” she muttered sourly.

“Sorry?”

“Oh you know, we can’t all flirt our way into getting what we want.”

Serena’s eyes narrowed instantly. “What are you implying?”

“Not implying. Just stating facts.” Bernie took a step forward closing the gap between them.

“I got what we needed by asking nicely.” Serena’s answer was crisp as she mirrored Bernie’s action. “Bossy sergeant major doesn’t always work, after all.”

They were well within each other’s personal space, the tension close to snapping point, when the door to the office burst open.

Raf looked between the two of them and announced after a brief pause to catch his breath. “Major RTC incoming and there are at least three injured on the way.”

“How bad was it?” Serena asked grimly.

“Pretty bad. It’s looking likely that they might all need emergency surgery.”

Serena and Bernie exchanged a brief glance before they slipped simultaneously into trauma mode, their argument forgotten. Bernie called out to Fletch as they exited the office. “Can you make sure that theatre is prepped and ready? And call up to Keller to see if they can keep one on hold just in case there’s overspill.”

Fletch nodded and headed for the nurses’ station to make the appropriate calls. Bernie knew they had five, ten minutes at most before hell potentially broke loose. She turned to say something to Serena but she was already halfway across the ward and heading towards the locker room. Any notion she had of following in the same direction evaporated when a gurney crashed noisily as it barrelled through the double doors of the ward.

****

The incident was worse than initially predicted and it was well past the end of their shift when Serena finally had the luxury of heaving a tired sigh as she tugged her scrub cap off her head. It was touch and go and for a moment she’d thought she had lost the boy when his heart stopped. She allowed herself a small smile as she recalled how they persisted and finally won the hard fought battle.

A soft growl emitted from her belly, reminding her that she hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast. Serena straightened her back and forced her legs to propel her forward. Home, food and her bed beckoned.

A smile crept onto her face as she suddenly remembered that she had a day off tomorrow to look forward to as well, and she amended her plan.

Home, food, _Shiraz_ and bed.

****

Serena swept her eyes round the ward out of habit and was relieved to see that it was all relatively calm. Her stomach rumbled again and she quickened her pace towards her destination. The faster she could get changed, the sooner she’d be on her way home. She rounded the corridor and had just entered the locker room when a loud bang pulled her up short.

Her eyes narrowed instinctively before widening in hesitation when she realised what the source of the sound was. A familiar form had just slammed her locker closed. Her back was facing Serena but there was no mistaking who it belonged to. She tried to pull her eyes away but they stayed fastened where they were, fascinated by the fluid movement of muscle and skin. A tiny voice in her head squeaked that it might be better if she came back later. Serena shook her head, berating herself for being silly.

She had as much right to be in the room as anyone else after all.

Still, she instinctively cleared her throat, hoping the noise would announce her presence. In spite of all the drama, their little argument in the office earlier was still fresh in her mind and the last thing she wanted was for things to become even more awkward.

Bernie turned her head a fraction as Serena entered. She stiffened when she realised who it was and hurriedly pushed an arm through the shirt she was holding. Years of sharing communal facilities in the Army meant that she was usually as comfortable changing in front of company as she was in private but something about Serena made her inexplicably self-conscious. Bernie fumbled with the other sleeve and an elbow crashed painfully into a locker door in her haste. It drew a soft hiss of pain from her lips.

“Where’s the fire?” Serena’s voice came from right beside her, causing Bernie to jump. Serena raised an eyebrow as she finished folded up the leopard print scrub cap she was holding and tucked it in its usual place on the bottom shelf of her locker.

The hand finally made its way out of the tangle of cloth and Bernie took a breath to steady herself before answering. “I’m just glad today is over. The brother barely made it.”

Serena nodded in agreement. “It’s over for some of us anyway. Raf is still in surgery.”

Bernie gave her a confused look. “I thought we sent mum up to Keller.”

“We did. It’s that patient with the aneurysm.”

“Oh?”

“Turns out it was more than the splenic artery. She was sent up to Darwin straight from CT and they needed an extra pair of hands.”

Bernie felt her face flush at the memory of their conversation and reacted on instinct. “At least all that flirting was for a good cause.”

Serena’s eyes narrowed. “I thought we’d been through this. I wasn’t flirting.”

Bernie rolled her eyes and snorted.

“What’s your problem, Wolfe?”

Bernie raised an eyebrow and spoke in a singsong voice. “Oh, Jan you’re a lifesaver. Drinks are on me at Albie’s.”

Serena stared at her as if she had grown two heads before bursting into derisive laughter.

“If you think that’s flirting, you’ve obviously no idea what I can do.”

“Evidently.” Bernie replied dryly, emphasising the hard T in the syllable.

There was only so far, Serena mused much, much later, that she could be pushed before she snapped. She took a step towards Bernie and all concept of space between their bodies evaporated instantly. Bernie retreated a step only to find her back pressing flush against door of a locker.

Serena lifted a hand and gently brushed against the open placket of Bernie’s shirt before scrunching it up in a tight grasp. “Shall I demonstrate?”

Their lips crashed together and Bernie found herself shoved roughly against the cold hard metal. There should have been pain, a twinge at the very least, but her body seemed to have lost all ability to feel anything other the sensation of Serena’s lips devouring her own. She gasped and that tiniest of actions allowed a tongue to sweep past her lower lip. Serena pressed her torso forward and Bernie groaned.

Something about that sound made her react on a primal level and Serena’s hand somehow found its way inside Bernie’s shirt. The groan deepened into a moan when the fingers landed inevitably against the heaving swell of a breast. Serena’s hand moved and her ability to think, let alone speak, disintegrated instantly. The pressure increased steadily and was about to draw a growl from her throat before the sound of a couple of nurses having a loud conversation in the corridor outside pierced the haze. Serena inched away, momentarily. She stood dazed for the few seconds it took for her to realise what she had done.

“Serena...” Bernie just about managed to string the syllables together and the fog in Serena’s head was immediately displaced by a rising panic. She opened her mouth, partly to draw desperately needed air into her lungs, but mostly in desperate hope that it would fuel her faculties enough so that she could speak.

The former was achieved but not the latter.

Bernie was left standing, chest heaving, plastered against the locker door as Serena wrenched herself round and strode blindly out of the room.

****

Serena’s fingers trembled as she pulled on her coat. She pushed back the flood of emotions nudging at the far edge of her logical thoughts as she slung her bag round her shoulder and headed straight for the lift. It wasn’t until the doors closed and she let out the breath she was holding that she realised she was still in her surgical blues.


	2. Tuesday's Grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serena has a day off. Plenty of time to ponder what the hell came over her on Monday.

Serena’s eyelids twitched as the beeping grew louder. She turned to bury her head into her pillow and groaned immediately.

Big mistake.

The noise not only grew louder but was instantly joined by a dull thud intent on chipping its way out of her skull. Her arm automatically reached over to the bedside table; she couldn’t do anything about the wrecking ball in her head but she was determined to silence the cacophony that was compounding the ache. 

If she ever found the blasted thing. 

Serena’s fingers scrabbled vaguely around where her phone usually sat but came up against nothing but a smooth wooden surface. 

_ Great. _

She stretched a little further, hoping that it had just been beyond her reach, when a tiny thought penetrated the construction site that used to be her brain. 

The sound was coming from the other direction and closer proximity. In fact, it was as if her phone was right next to her head. Serena moaned and flopped her arm over onto her opposite site and it hit the familiar shape first time. She forced her eyes open a crack, just enough to ensure she pressed a thumb at the right spot. A relieved sigh escaped her lips the moment sweet, glorious silence finally fell across the room once again.

She rolled onto her back and squeezed her eyelids shut. If she kept very still, her head would surely stop hurting long enough for her to drift back to sleep. Serena burrowed her head into the soft goose down in drowsy anticipation. 

She ought to have known better.

A different kind of pounding started almost immediately. It was substantially louder, more insistent and came from beyond the bedroom. In fact, it sounded very much like someone thumping at the front door. Serena waited for the familiar sound of Jason’s footsteps, wondering why he hadn’t already answered the door when she finally remembered. He wasn’t in. He was staying at Alan’s this week. 

She groaned again as the knocking continued and she finally resigned herself to the fact that it wasn’t going to go away and she would have to get up. It was a considerable feat of willpower but Serena pulled herself upright and grabbed the dressing gown off the armchair by the bed. 

This had better be good. 

****

Serena pushed the door shut with a click and bent over to lift the box up from the floor. She grunted softly at the weight as she made her way into the kitchen. 

How ironic, she thought ruefully as she placed her fragile cargo onto a worktop and started unpacking the bottles from her monthly wine club subscription. She started stowing them away in the rack under the counter when her eyes caught sight of two empty bottles of Shiraz perched beside the sink, a mocking reminder of why her head was killing her. 

The events of the previous day started playing in her mind. Serena winced as it reached the part involving her encounter with Bernie in the locker room.

Encounter. 

She paused thoughtfully at her noun of choice. It was a little workmanlike but not inaccurate. Her inner voice, however, had other ideas.

_ Not inaccurate, Serena. Just the coward’s way of describing what it really was. A kiss.  _

Serena groaned and sank into the nearest chair. 

_ What have I done? _

There was a silver lining to every cloud. She lived by that belief at work and in life and her mantra was proving true yet again. The growing ball of panic in her stomach seemed to be the perfect panacea for her hangover because the mist lifted and her thoughts sharpened into focus. 

_ Fuck. _

Serena restrained herself from banging her forehead repeatedly against the nearest hard surface and settled instead for cradling it in the palms of her hands. She sighed and lifted her head a fraction before taking a deep breath and pulling herself upright. Yes, she had slipped up, but it was all in the heat of the moment. It was impulsive and, for all her fretting, very likely to be insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe. The momentary relief lasted only as long as it took for the next word to spontaneously appear in her head.  

_ Bernie. _

Her bravado wavered as she tried not to imagine what Bernie’s reaction had been after her unceremonious exit. She shook her head and decided that she hadn’t the brainpower to think about it. Definitely not before she had a shower and coffee. 

****

Serena stepped out of the ensuite towelling her hair. It was amazing what a nice hot shower could do and she felt vaguely human again. All she needed now was some good old caffeine to finish the job. 

She had contemplated going out to the shops but a quick peek out of the bedroom window changed her mind. There wasn’t anything she needed badly enough to brave the fat droplets of rain bouncing off the ground hard and fast from the leaden grey sky. 

Truth be told, Serena was just looking for something to do as a distraction from her thoughts and there was plenty to do in the house. She had always been fastidious about keeping on top of things but with work being nightmarishly busy the past week, housekeeping hadn’t been high on her to-do list. 

_ Time to get cracking, Campbell. _

****

Serena sank into her armchair with a satisfied sigh. She took another sip of her coffee before setting it down by her feet. A quick glance at the clock in the living room told her it was just past lunch time and she had most of her list ticked off. As if on cue, a tiny chime rang out in the background signalling that the machine had completed its cycle and the laundry was done. 

A muffled trill sounded from the pocket of her fleece, heralding an incoming message. Serena pulled the phone out of her pocket and pressed her thumb to the obvious spot before staring at the screen. It was a message from Jason reminding her that he’d be home on Sunday night. She paused before sending off a short affirmation that she hadn’t forgotten.

Strange how it was possible to be relieved and disappointed at the same time. It was an unfamiliar feeling but one she was growing accustomed to of late. Her life for the past twenty four hours had, after all, been a random mish-mash of unexpected surprises. She placed her phone down the the nearest flat surface and her hand rose instinctively to twiddle the pendant hanging around her neck.

If it were anyone else suggesting that she was hoping the text was from a certain blonde surgeon of her acquaintance, she would have denied it point blank. Instead, she was sitting here arguing with herself over…

_ Yes, Serena, why are you letting a trivial thing like a kiss bother you so much? _

She looked towards her phone again and sighed. It was the  _ who _ and not the  _ what _ that was making her fret like a schoolgirl. That little voice chirped up again. 

_ You know it wasn’t just an impulsive reaction. Maybe you’ve wanted to kiss her for a long, long time and what happened was just the excuse you’ve been looking for.  _

Serena shook her head to clear the ludicrous thought. Besides, it wasn’t as if she was a complete innocent when it came to kissing women. She had been there before. This was a totally normal and even somewhat inevitable response to her own undeniable charm and allure.

_ That drunken snog in Stepney doesn’t count, Serena. You couldn’t pick her out of a lineup even if your life depended on it. _

She pulled herself out of the chair and headed towards the kitchen looking for a distraction before she was sectioned. Her laptop was sitting on the kitchen table and a spark of inspiration hit her. There had to be work emails waiting to be replied to - there always were. 

Yes. 

Nothing like boring NHS circulars to numb her mind and stop it from meandering. Serena flipped the screen open and clicked on the usual tab, waiting for the screen to load. The connection was slower than usual and she found herself drumming her fingers impatiently. 

_ Maybe it’s because it was Bernie. _

Her fingers stopped in mid-air at the thought and she shut it down immediately. This was beyond ludicrous. It was impossible to be - she paused at the word, even though it was only in her head -  _ gay _ for just one person. 

Wasn’t it?

Her fingers clicked on a new tab, work forgotten and started typing. She paused halfway through her search phrase when she realised how silly it looked when put into actual words. 

**_I kissed my best friend. What does it mean?_ **

A few rapid taps of the delete key later, she found herself staring at the cursor again, blinking steadily at her. 

Was it even possible to have a change in persuasion at this stage in her life? Her logical surgeon’s mind barked back a vehement no. It wasn’t a bug that she could catch like - her mind grasped the first example that appeared - the flu. 

Serena let out a bitter chuckle at her own joke. Maybe she should turn herself in for a psych consult just to save time. 

_ Never say never, Serena. _

Her hand hovered above the keyboard for a moment before giving in. 

**_Can you turn gay in your 50s?_ **

The screen blinked as it refreshed with a list of search results. She scrolled through them and one particular website caught her eye. She clicked on the link and the page appeared almost instantly. It had a bright background with a colourful header and a lowercase letter T in the top left corner. 

Her eyes swept over the brief introduction, smiling at the witty descriptor of ‘hella gay’ before she found a link to an introductory post and started reading. The blog was beautifully worded and clearly the writer was speaking from a deep and highly personal experience. Serena froze when she read the final sentence on the first page.

“So, I’ve just turned fifty. I’ve also just realised that I have fallen in love with my best friend and I am gay.”

She slammed the cover of the laptop shut. 

No. 

As much as she was curious, this was hitting way too dangerously close to home. She stood up and suddenly remembered that she had the washing to put out. Nothing like some good old fashioned laundry to keep her thoughts from wandering for a while. And, thanks to the wine club delivery, she had plenty of Shiraz to finish the job later on if required. 


	3. And Wednesday Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Bernie's day off, and she's not thinking about what happened on Monday. And she's definitely not looking for any kind of distraction to stop her mind from wandering.

Bernie took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off her brow. It had been a while since she’d had time to do this. She glanced at her wrist and checked the time. Five miles in thirty six minutes. Not exactly record breaking but still pretty decent by her standards. When her heartbeat had slowed sufficiently she contemplated doing another circuit, but a low rumble in the distance made her stop. She glanced up at the sky to find it was rapidly resembling a dark shade of slate.

Wet droplets started pelting her head and her mind was made up in an instant. Bernie jogged the three steps up to her front door and ducked through the doorway just before the droplets turned into a deluge.

****

Bernie rubbed her hair one last time before hanging the towel up on the hook behind the door. A loud crack of thunder sounded just outside the window and she pulled the edges of her fleece together before zipping it up. It was definitely a day for staying indoors and, for once, she was looking forward to it. 

The previous day had been hard going. There had been an emergency appendectomy whilst Raf was called away for a consult in the ED. She had barely managed two steps back into the ward when the red phone came to life - a construction site accident with at least two injured on the way. 

Bernie allowed a small smile to creep onto her face. Neither she nor Raf had been able to leave until three hours past the end of their shifts, but they had lost neither life nor limb with any of the patients, so that made it more than worthwhile. Hopefully today would be less eventful. She at least had the day off to recover, but Raf had looked glum at the prospect that he’d be back to the grind in less than twelve hours. Bernie thought they could all do with a break considering the challenging week they’d had so far. 

_ In more ways than one, _ her brain squeaked. 

Bernie sighed as she tried to bat the annoying little chirp away. She had been too distracted to think about it much at work but the memory of what happened on Monday came flooding right back now that she had nothing but the walls of her flat to keep her company. 

It had taken her a good few minutes to make her limbs work again after the initial shock had ebbed. Bernie remembered her muscles relaxing in relief as her eyes caught sight of Serena, a blur of motion, striding hurriedly towards the lift. 

She grimaced. Relief wasn’t quite right right because it implied that she was glad Serena had left. Which she wasn’t. At least not in the obvious sense of the word. It was more just gladness that her brain would be able to start working again.

_ Well done, Wolfe. You’re probably the only person on earth who manages to go round in circles while talking to yourself.  _

She padded into the living room and picked up the TV remote, hoping that there was something on that would distract her. Bargain Hunt, maybe. Or Homes Under the Hammer. Or a decorating show. She glanced at the plain walls of her living room. Maybe what she really needed was a project for the day. She’d always fancied a slightly different shade of beige in this room, now that she thought of it.

****

Bernie stared at the label and glanced back at the leaflet she was holding. She contemplated it briefly before shifting her scrutiny to the adjacent tin. Her eyes were starting to blur but she was determined not to let something as insignificant as a colour chart get the better of her. 

She liked Caramel Latte but it was more brown than beige. Taupe looked nice on paper albeit a touch too light. 

_ If only there were something in between.  _

She was about to move on to the next section of seemingly identical pots when something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. The cogs in her head started whirring and she stuffed the leaflet into her pocket. A thought began to form.

****

“So you can make up the colours from scratch?”

The young man - Jeremy according to the fluorescent orange tag attached to his shirt - smiled broadly as he answered. “Yes, as long as you have a sample. It’s much easier if you can find what you’re looking for in the swatches, though.” He waved in the direction of the display with the bold  _ Colour Mixing Centre _ sign above it.

Bernie’s eyes followed his hand and brightened as she took in the bank of tiny cards arranged according to colours of the spectrum. She headed straight for the neutral section of the swatches and started thumbing through them one at a time. 

Half an hour later, she had picked a dozen samples. She monopolised one end of the desk and started separating them according to colour. Yellowish-beige to one side and brownish-beige on the other, in order of increasing level of - a random word popped into her mind from the days of O Level Physics - saturation. Bernie was scrutinising her selection when  a voice piped up next to her.

“Do you need a hand?” Jeremy asked, his smile markedly less enthusiastic this time as pointedly glanced at the large amount of space on his desk she was taking up.

“No thanks.” Bernie answered distractedly. “I’ll give you a shout if I need any help.”

Jeremy nodded, his face falling a little further  as he turned back towards his screen.

****

“I’m not sure.” Bernie said for the dozenth time. She frowned as she thumbed the three remaining bits of cardboard in front of her. 

Jeremy was sure he’d let a sigh slip before his cheek muscles rearranged themselves appropriately out of habit. He groaned inwardly, imagining how that particular reaction wouldn’t do his customer service rating any favours. Little did he know that he didn’t have to worry because Bernie was too preoccupied with her current conundrum to have noticed. 

“I’ve just had an idea.”

He perked up at the glimmer of hope. Was there an end in sight to this consultation about the minute differences between various shades of beige? “Yes?”

Bernie flipped through the slim booklet, stopping only when she found what she was looking for and jabbed a finger at page.

“According to this, you can replicate a colour from any sample. As long as it’s,” she peered for a moment before continuing, “a solid colour and not too glossy.”

He nodded dumbly in response distracted by the trepidation of what he was certain Bernie was about to suggest next - her coming back and monopolising his time for yet more interminable hours with a selection of random objects to be sampled. He panicked for an instant and blurted out the first thing that came into his head. 

“Have you thought about a feature wall?”

Bernie looked up with a confused expression on her face.

“A what?”

Jeremy gave himself a mental pat on the back for regaining the upper hand and his smile broadened. 

“A feature wall. It’s one wall in the room you decorate differently, say by painting it a darker colour. ” 

He could see that she wasn’t completely convinced and quickly took the three steps between the counter and the display. Jeremy returned a few seconds later and laid out the half a dozen or so rectangles of cardboard he had procured onto the flat surface. 

“This,” he said as he pushed one of the pieces towards Bernie, “is one of our most popular shades. Mocha Java. Goes well with any of these other colours you’ve picked.”

It was a nice shade of but the card next to it caught her attention. It reminded her of something. Maybe her morning coffee, given the name - Italian Roast.

“I like this one better.” She paused and wavered. “I think. And I’m not sure about which shade of beige either. Maybe-”

“We could get some tester pots made up,” Jeremy suggested quickly, out of hope rather than optimism, “and you can see what the colours look like in your living room.”

Bernie contemplated that silently. Jeremy held his breath in anticipation as he waited for her to respond. This was his final gambit and he knew he was potentially looking at overtime if it failed. He resisted the urge to look at his watch.

“I suppose the colours will look different depending on the ambient lighting.” 

He nodded enthusiastically.

“And it would be a waste of paint if I bought litres of this without being sure if it’s right.”

Another desperate nod. 

"Right.” Bernie straightened her back. “Jeremy, my man. I’ll take samples of all of these,” she smiled as she shoved the pile of cards in his direction.

She received a relieved smile as he shuffled them into a pile and headed for the terminal on the other end of the counter.

“Wait.”

Jeremy froze his in steps, reluctantly turning round slowly.

“What about the finish?”

“What?” He squeaked as he faced Bernie again.

She tilted her head at him as she replied. “Flat, satin or eggshell? Or maybe I should look at semi-gloss for the skirting board. What do you think?”

****

Bernie rolled her shoulders, groaning softly as the tendons stretched. In spite of the relative cool temperature of the room, she felt a prickling of sweat starting to form on her brow. She pushed the sleeves of her plaid shirt up beyond the elbows and resumed her work.

It took another ten minutes of fanning and aching wrists to convince her that it was pointless. The paint just needed time to dry and what she was doing wasn’t productive, let alone efficient. 

Bernie sighed and dropped the rectangle of folded newspaper that was the makeshift fan. She made her way into the kitchen and headed for the fridge. The bottle she was looking for sat on the bottom shelf and she smiled. Nothing better than her favourite Scottish cider, Thistly Cross, to quench a thirst.

She padded back into the living room and scrutinised the dozen or so squares of plain lining paper occupying the floor. Bernie had adorned them with colours from the tester pots earlier under the advice of one of Jeremy’s colleagues who worked in Decorating. Much easier to chuck a bit of paper than to repaint a wall stuttered with paint samples, the assistant had explained. 

Everyone at B&Q had been so helpful. She’d enjoyed the three hours she’d spent there, discussing paint samples with Jeremy. He’d even given her a few sample pots for free. What a nice young man he was, she thought. She’d have to make a point to ask for him when she went back. She’d thought of a few more questions for him too.

She returned her attention to the drying paint samples. The beiges were barely distinguishable from each other but she decided that she liked Taupe after all. She was less enthusiastic about the feature wall. It sounded like more work and commitment than she had time for. In spite of her reticence, her eyes were drawn to one particular piece of drying paint. 

Bernie scrounged her memory and was certain that the colour was called Italian Roast. It was a pleasant deep hazel and, if she were so inclined to embark on a radical makeover, would fit quite nicely on the wall behind the fire.

Not to mention it was practically identical to the shade of brown which was the colour of a certain set of eyes she was familiarly acquainted with. 

Serena.

Bernie lowered herself onto the sofa and took another swig from the bottle before setting it down by her foot. Her entire day had been spent avoiding thinking about it but in spite of her best efforts - she grimaced at the jumble of paint and supplies piled up in the corner - she couldn’t avoid the plain, simple and obvious fact.

Serena had kissed her.

_ Serena  _ had kissed  _ her. _

It wasn’t like she’d never imagined it before. The taste of Serena’s mouth, the delicious pressure, the velvet softness of her lips’ caress. But she’d always assumed  _ she’d  _ be the one to lose control and initiate it. In their office, perhaps, or in theatre, sitting slumped against the wall after a tough surgery, feeling miserable and looking for comfort.

But this. Serena kissing  _ her?  _ It had stood outwith the prospect of belief.

Bernie slumped morosely back onto the sofa. Perhaps, this time, she had truly bitten off more than she could chew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly inspired by my wife's six month stint working in B&Q.


	4. Thursday I Don't Care About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie and Serena see each other again for the first time since the events of Monday. A visitor to the ward reminds them of what their argument was about in the first place.

Serena hummed in relief as she walked through the main doors of the hospital and a warm blast of air greeted her. She pulled her hands out of the pockets of her coat and rubbed them together, transferring some of the warmth into her frozen digits. A glance at her watch told her that she even had fifteen minutes to spare.

_Perfect._

Just enough time to get coffee and a croissant.

Her heels clicked as she made her way across the busy lobby. She turned the corner and was relieved to see that the queue was short this morning with only three in the line ahead of her today. It shuffled along quickly and she was soon standing in front of the counter.

The young barista smiled as he greeted her.

“What can I get for you today?”

She smiled. “Black, no sugar please.”

He nodded and started punching the order into his screen. “Can I interest you in the blend of the week? It’s a little more robust than the usual.”

Serena nodded and touched her card briefly on the terminal. “Go on then. Strong and hot is just what I need today.”

She had barely stepped back to allow the next customer in the line through when a familiar sight tugged at the corner of her eyes. Her heart sank. Instinctively, her first thought was to turn around and leave before Bernie saw her. Even if it meant abandoning her coffee.

_Stop being an idiot, Serena. You can’t avoid her forever. You work in the same bloody office after all._

Serena drew a deep breath, rearranged her face into a bright smile and took a step towards Bernie. “Hello, stranger.”

Bernie turned abruptly, a look of surprise gracing her features. A light flush coloured her face once she realised who the voice belonged to. “Oh, hullo.”

Serena’s smile broadened as she sidled up a little closer. “We really should stop meeting like this.” The words left her mouth as if they were strung together by honey. Even as it did, her breathing stuttered in reflex. She was surprising even herself that she could sound so calm in spite of the fact that her insides were churning nervously. Perhaps Bernie was right and this was what she did best. That she was an incorrigible flirt.

Bernie couldn’t see the expression on her own face but she was sure that it was neither attractive nor decorous. Gawking goldfish rarely was, in her experience. Her brain was in the midst of scrambling for a response when she heard her order being called out and moved forward to pick it up from the counter.

“Thanks,” she muttered before stepping back, thankful for the timely interruption. The cardboard cup was halfway to her lips when the voice rang out again, this time with Serena’s order.

“Italian Roast.”

Serena was just about to retrieve her drink when a faint clatter followed by a soft curse made her turn round. She surveyed the scene before her before stepping gingerly round the pool of coffee spreading towards her feet across the floor. A cardboard cup rolled lazily in the dark liquid before resting against the top of Bernie’s shoe.

“I’m so sorry…”

Serena couldn’t help the way her leapt to a little faster rhythm at the sight of a flustered Bernie.

A young man wielding a mop and pail appeared almost instantly from behind the counter. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have this cleaned up in no time.” Bernie flashed him a grateful smile as she bent over to pick up the sodden cardboard cup.

Serena knew she shouldn’t stare but her eyes stayed magnetised to the tautly stretched curve of skin-tight fabric. She willed her head to turn, knowing she had only seconds before she would potentially be caught ogling. Fortunately, Bernie chose that moment to straighten up and Serena let loose a relieved sigh as she grasped blindly for her coffee.

“Coming?” Serena was sure Bernie would notice the waver in her voice.

Bernie stared at the face of her co-lead, grateful for her lip reading skills. She couldn’t hear much over the sound of her thundering heartbeat. She shook her head. It took considerable effort to keep her voice steady but she just about managed. “I should help clean this up. You go ahead.”

****

AAU was humming with activity by the time Bernie pushed through the double doors. She surveyed the ward. Fletch and Raf were huddled over a tablet at the nurses’ station and Morven was speaking to the patient in bay one.

_Where’s Serena?_

Bernie shook her head, berating herself. Serena was probably busy working, like she should be. A few quick strides to the office after a short detour to the locker room later, Bernie was ready for duty.

“Thought you might need another one of these.”

The familiar contralto made her glance up from her emails.

Serena placed the coffee on Bernie’s desk before rounding to her side and sinking gracefully into her chair. “I have a patient with a perforated ulcer on the duodenum scheduled for after lunch. Do you have time to give me a hand?”

Talk about work was safe, familiar territory and any threat of awkwardness rearing its head again started to dissipate, like mist in the morning sun.

“Well...” Bernie’s eyes crinkled in a smile as she sipped her drink, “you certainly know how to show a girl a good time.”

****

The surgery went smoothly and they exchanged a smile as the patient was wheeled out of theatre into recovery.

“Nicely done, Ms Wolfe,” Serena commented as she started scrubbing her hands under the stream of water.

“You weren’t so bad yourself, Ms Campbell,” Bernie answered.

Serena shook the final droplets of water off her fingers before she replied. “We make a good team.”

“Yes we do.” Bernie’s answer was punctuated with a smile. They hadn’t talked about Monday - how does one start a conversation like that anyway? - and perhaps she needn’t have worried after all. The huge knot of anxiety at the pit of her stomach had dissolved into insignificant strands as they stood on opposite sides of the table, plying their craft with the usual ease and familiarity.

“Do you want to get a drink after work?” Serena ventured.

Bernie had to consciously suppress the grin that was bursting to creep onto her face. “If you’re buying, I’m in.”

Serena had feared that what happened on Monday would have ruined the easygoing rapport they shared, but Bernie didn’t seem to be letting it affect her. Perhaps she had been overthinking the whole situation after all.

****

All trace of apprehension in either of their heads was completely dismissed by the time they stepped back onto the ward. They stopped at the nurses’ station and Serena glanced at the usual bank of screens out of habit. Everything seemed to be running smoothly and, in fact, a little ahead of schedule for once.

“Seems like we’re a well-oiled machine,” Bernie murmured as she leaned up on the counter next to Serena, their elbows touching lightly. Serena was on the brink of a response when she was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Dr Bernie.”

They both turned round and Bernie greeted Jason with a smile.

“Jason. What can I do for you?”

“Nothing at all. I just wanted to say hello. I haven’t seen you or Auntie Serena since Monday morning, since I’m visiting Alan this week. What have you both been up to?”

“I…” Bernie cleared her throat nervously as her brain tried to compose an answer but Serena interjected smoothly.

“This is our first day working together since Monday, Jason.”

Jason nodded. “Yes, I know. You had the day off on Tuesday and I know because you replied to my text almost immediately and you don’t usually check your phone when you’re at work.” He turned to face Bernie. “Have you also been busy, Dr Bernie?”

“Like your auntie said, it’s been busy but I had a day off too. Yesterday.”

Jason cut in inquisitively. “Did you have a nice day, Dr Bernie?”

Bernie smiled wryly. “It was vaguely productive. I was at B&Q for a good part of it shopping for supplies.”

She received a nod of approval for her answer.  “I like shopping there as well. Do you know what the letters B and Q stand for?

Bernie and Serena exchanged a look that signified neither of them had the faintest idea.

“They are the initials of the founders of the company - Mr Block and Mr Quayle. They formed the company in 1969 and-”

“Yes, thank you Jason,” Serena cut him off before he could continue with a potted history of the nation’s favourite DIY chain. “I don’t care much for the place myself.”

Bernie raised her eyebrows in surprise. “They were incredibly helpful when I was there yesterday.”

Serena replied, smiling wryly, “I suppose I might be biased from past experience. Edward used to drag me round the store every other Sunday while he looked for drill bits and screwdrivers. It wasn’t until much later that I realised he was overcompensating.”

Bernie let out a honk of laughter in response. “I can assure you that I wasn’t the least bit interested by anything in _that_ department.”

Serena looked at her for a moment and burst out laughing. She felt Bernie’s forearm leaning in a little closer and relished the sensation. There was a brief moment, a fraction of a second, in which she considered disclosing her feelings and saying the words out loud.

She was about suggest a cup of tea in the privacy of their office when she heard her name being called out. The voice was vaguely familiar but she couldn’t quite place it at first. She spun round and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight before her.

“What on earth…?”

A wheelchair carrying the owner of the voice, a woman slightly younger than Bernie and Serena, stopped between them. She pulled herself up into a standing position and smiled at the porter before he could protest. “There’s nothing wrong with my legs, I promise. And this,” she indicated to the sling cradling her right arm, “will stop the arm from doing anything nasty.”

The porter looked at Bernie, then Serena, for help.

“That’s all right. We’ll take it from here,” Serena reassured him before turning to face the patient.

“What have you done to yourself, Jan?”

Bernie pursed her lips thoughtfully as she scrutinised the woman in front of her.

_So, this is Jan._

She wasn’t that impressive. Tall and blonde, yes, but with an overly long nose and thin, pink lips. Sure, she had some cheekbones and a long elegant neck, but Bernie couldn’t see anything special about her.

Jan smiled ruefully in Serena’s direction. “Slipped and cracked my elbow against the CT scanner.”

Serena peered into the sling and frowned. “Looks like more than a cracked elbow.”

Jan rolled her eyes and huffed. “I might have gashed it as well. The geniuses down in the ED couldn’t decide whether there was vascular compromise so I took matters into my own hands.”

Serena arched an eyebrow, inviting her to elaborate.

“If there were an issue, I wouldn’t want anyone other than the best looking at it.” Jan’s eyes glinted with mirth as she continued. “I am very particular about who puts their hands on me after all. “

Serena let loose a throaty chuckle and shook her head in mock exasperation.

“In that case, let’s take a look at the arm.” She looked up and found just the person she was looking for. “Fletch, do we have a bay free?”

****

Bernie looked up from folder she had been staring at for the past twenty minutes. The sound of Serena’s laughter floated across the ward above the usual hum of machines and conversation.

Her eyes narrowed as she located her co-lead, back towards her and head lowered in conversation with Jan. _Jan._ Bernie felt the muscles in her jaw tighten instinctively at the sound of that single syllable in her head.

She forced her eyes back onto her paperwork, determined to ignore the gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. Bernie stared at the top of the page for what seemed like the dozenth time and barely got past the end of the first sentence before her mind began to wander again.

Why did she care anyway? It wasn’t as if she and Serena were anything more than friendly work colleagues. What did it matter if she seemed to be flirting for England with another woman? It wasn’t as if they had kissed or anything like that.

_Oh wait._

Bernie slammed the cover of the folder shut. It was pointless to pretend she was going to get any work done without clearing these annoyingly distracting thoughts out of her head. Maybe a breath of fresh air on the roof could be what the doctor prescribed. She was halfway out of her chair when Serena breezed into the office, her bright tangerine blouse swaying with her motion.

“Going somewhere?” she asked as Bernie pulled the grey Holby City hoodie off the back of her chair.

“Need a breath of air,” Bernie muttered in reply, her eyes carefully avoiding Serena’s gaze.

“Well, don’t skive off for too long. That,” Serena nodded teasingly at the pile of folders on Bernie’s desk, “isn’t going to complete itself.”

Bernie snorted derisively. “That’s rich.”

“Excuse me?” Serena frowned in confusion.

“I’m not the one who’s been spending the whole afternoon flirting instead of working.” Bernie’s tone was bitter as she spat the words out.

Serena lifted a hand and rubbed her forehead. “Oh for crying out loud, not this again.”

“What, am I hitting too close to home?”

“What is your problem, Wolfe?” The voice bore a distinctly hard edge.

“Pot calling the kettle black, Serena. I doubt that your paperwork is going to get done anytime soon and the last thing I need is to be picking up your slack while you’re fawning over,” Bernie gestured vaguely in the direction of the ward, “her.”

Serena stared back at her wordlessly. Bernie took this as a sign that she had the upper hand for once and pressed onwards.

“I suppose we know what your type is, eh? Leggy blondes with sculpted cheekbones and dark eyes do it for you then, Campbell? I personally don’t see the attraction. And does she even own a hairbrush?”

The words came out in a tumble and it was only when Bernie stopped to take a breath that the reality of her outburst started sinking in. She gulped once, then twice as she watched Serena’s face turn from incredulous shock to pure rage.

“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” Each word was spoken softly but with such weight that Bernie had to lean up against her desk to stop her legs from giving way.

“Serena…”

A upheld hand stopped the next words coming out of her mouth.

“Don’t.”  Serena drew herself up to her full height and only the fact that she was already leaning against her desk stopped her from taking a cowering step backwards. “I suggest you take that fresh air before either of us says anything else regrettable.” With that parting shot, Serena swivelled round and marched back onto the ward.

“I’m sorry,” Bernie managed to squeak before Serena was out of earshot.

Serena’s answer rang out sharply and Bernie felt every painful word like repeated punches to her gut.

“I don’t care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in tomorrow for the thrilling climax.


	5. It's Friday I'm In Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally time to resolve the issue that's been dragging on all week.

Serena shifted onto her side. She buried her head a little deeper into her pillow hoping that the new posture would help her drift back to sleep.

It didn’t.

She sighed and glanced at the fluorescent display of her alarm clock. It unsurprisingly showed the time as two minutes later than the last time she checked. Two minutes ago. It had been a long time since she woke before the alarm pulled her into wakefulness but, then again, she couldn’t remember the last time anything had made her thoughts fidget like a nervous schoolgirl’s.

Her heart clenched in despair when she forced herself to admit the harsh reality with which she was faced.

Bernie thought of her as no more than a superficial flirt who’d bat her eyelashes at anything with a pulse. Hell would freeze over before she’d consider that the feelings Serena was increasingly sure of were anything more than frivolous.

Serena sighed and reached for the bedside lamp. Her eyes blinked in momentary protest before they adjusted to the increased illumination. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and pulled herself upright.

Might as well put the extra hour and a half she had to good use.

****

Bernie let out a lengthy breath as her back muscles - the latissimus dorsi, to be precise - stretched to their full extent. She rarely had enough time to put in a run in the morning these days but it was relatively easy fitting in a short Pilates routine before work. A bead of sweat ran down her temple and she swiped it away with the back of her hand.

She glanced at the clock on her living room wall and it confirmed that she had more than an hour before she needed to get ready for work.

Time enough for another set.

Bernie drew another breath and rolled her shoulders to loosen the joints. She leaned forward and started flexing her torso before something caught her eye and made her stop. Her posture stiffened.

_Don’t even think of going there, Berenice._

She pulled herself upright and tore her eyes away from the square of wallpaper, half hidden by the coffee table. Italian Roast. Her brain started to meander at the distraction and it was only after long seconds thinking of pink elephants in tutus that it regained something resembling higher function. She realised, with great dismay, that the ability to do so only served to emphasise the futility of her situation.

Bernie stared morosely at the plain wall in front of her, hardly seeing it at all, a jolt of introspection taking her by surprise. If she had to admit it, the feelings had been bubbling, unnamed and indefinable, for a long time now.

Funny how much life could change in the space of four days. She had done the worst possible thing and acted like a raving lunatic in front of the only person she wanted - no, craved. More than anyone she’d ever wanted before. How could she expect Serena to take her seriously, let alone contemplate anything resembling a relationship, when she acted like an irrational out-of-control, green-eyed monster at the drop of a hat?

Bernie squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath as she headed for the ensuite.

Maybe a hot shower would help to clear her thoughts.

****

Serena took another sip of her coffee as she scrolled down the screen. It was a good thing that she’d never learnt how to close browser tabs because that meant she found what she was looking for almost instantly. When her eyes landed on the last post she’d read she froze for a moment before rolling her eyes.

_Grow up, Serena._

She took a deep breath and clicked onto the next page. The author of the blog had a wry sense of humour and Serena found herself smiling at the lengths to which gone she’d to avoid being alone with her bestie for the first two weeks of her new-found realisation. Her heart wrenched in empathy when she reached the part when the author finally admitted what it was that was holding her back. How she feared ruining the best relationship she’d ever had if she revealed her feelings. How her life could be so wonderful if only she were brave enough.

_Would I be brave enough?_

She was about to move on to the next page when a soft chime from her phone reminded her that she should start getting ready for work. Serena closed the cover of her laptop and drained the last of her coffee. She placed her mug in the sink before heading out of the kitchen, the words still bouncing around in her head.

****

Bernie eased her grip round the cups; the last thing she needed was to accidentally crush the cardboard and give herself a third degree burn. She had, after all, embarrassed herself in front of Serena more than enough times for one week.

The door to their office was ajar and she was both disappointed and relieved that Serena wasn’t there. She placed her own drink on her side of the desk before setting down Serena’s on the middle of hers. A quick rummage in her bag produced a pain au chocolat, in its Pulses bag, which she placed next to the coffee.

Bernie smiled, proud of herself. Caffeine and pastry : the perfect peace offering.

****

Serena strode out of the lift, not waiting for the doors to open fully. As if she didn’t have enough on her plate, Hanssen had decided that first thing on a Friday morning was the perfect time to ask for an update of AAU statistics for his monthly report. Which meant she was well behind on her busy schedule and if there was one thing she loathed more than anything else, it was starting her day on the back foot.

Fletch and Morven were bent over in conversation as she approached the nurses’ station.

“Everything under control?”

Fletch sighed and shook his head. “Essie just called down asking for help. Their locum cancelled last minute and Mr Griffin is away at a seminar. We’re short as it is with Raf being off sick. ”

“I could give them a hand. They have a lumbar hernia on the list today and I’ve not seen one before,” Morven piped up, “but I am supposed to be assisting Ms Wolfe in half an hour.”

Serena couldn’t help the small twinge of nervousness in her chest at the mention of Bernie’s name. Years of practice ensured it never made it to her face.

“You go, Morven.” Serena smiled at the sight of the young doctor’s eyes brightening up excitedly. She turned to Fletch who was trying very hard to hide the look of panic on his face. “I’ll scrub in with Ms Wolfe.”

His expression lightened for a moment before he furrowed his brows, remembering something Serena had said yesterday before she left. “What about the paperwork you said had to be completed before the weekend?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “It’s not going anywhere and patients always come first. I thought you knew that, Nurse Fletcher.”

Truth be told, there was a small part of her that wanted, no, needed to interact with Bernie face to face. She had to reassure herself that they had not done irreparable damage to their working relationship because of their little…

Her brain flipped through a series of possible nouns to end the sentence - argument? Disagreement? Row? - but it kept coming back to the same ridiculous phrase despite her attempts to bat it away.

_You’d like to imagine it was a lover’s tiff, wouldn’t you, Serena Campbell?_

“Ms Campbell?” Fletch’s voice broke her reverie.

Serena blinked and cleared her mind. “Tell theatre I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

****

Bernie was glad, for once, that it had been non-stop the whole morning. It was more productive and definitely less nerve-wracking than pretending to do paperwork in the office. She ran the bar of soap across her skin one last time before rinsing off the suds. Her forearms were still dripping wet when she heard the sound of someone pushing the door to the scrub room open. She assumed it was the nurse who would be helping her glove and gown up.

“Won’t be a minute.” She shook her upright arms, dislodging huge droplets of water in the process.

“No rush.”

Bernie froze. There was only one voice that epitomised the amalgamation of silk and steel so perfectly and she had to pause for a gulp of air  before she turned to face her co-lead.

“I thought Morven was assisting me,” Bernie answered in reflex out of surprise and nervousness at Serena’s unexpected proximity. She winced the moment the words left her mouth.

_Nice opener, Bernie._

Serena’s reply was almost nonchalant. “Change of plan so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. Sacha needed a hand and Dr Digby kindly volunteered.” She was sure her face didn’t betray the wave of disappointment radiating through her chest. Bernie definitely wasn’t pleased to see her.

Bernie opened her mouth and briefly contemplated redeeming herself with an apology but clamped it shut again after deciding it was a bad idea based on her track record for the week so far. She pulled a gown out of its sterile packet and started threading her arms through the sleeves.

“Let’s get cracking.”

****

Serena let loose the groan of relief she had been holding in for the past hour. The surgery had been fairly routine and she could have done it with her eyes shut. The atmosphere, however, had made it seem like it was at least three times longer. She pushed the tap to the off position and started towelling her arms in brisk motions.

Maybe that was her punishment. Her heart sank as she realised that this might be what her life was destined to be from now on - awkward days at work bookended with sleepless mornings and nights.

_Congratulations, Campbell._

She pulled her scrub-cap off and stuffed it into a pocket. A quick glance at the clock reminded her that her day was far from over. Her mouth was set in a grim line as she headed for the door. With her luck, she’d probably discover the ultimate way to screw up before her shift was done.

****

Bernie glanced round the ward without breaking stride as she headed towards the office. It was out of habit rather than necessity, she knew, because she would have been summoned or, at the very least, informed if anything was wrong. That was part of what co-leading entailed.

_Co-lead._

Her steps stuttered as her mind flitted back to the surgery she’d just left. She had performed the procedures hundreds of times before and had never fumbled - in all of them combined - as much as she did today. The easy familiarity that they usually shared was a fleeting memory and what remained were perfunctory gestures punctuated by the occasional necessary word.

Perhaps this was her retribution. Serena being courteous but not friendly. Polite but never, dare she hope, intimate ever again.

Bernie sighed resignedly as she nudged the door open. She paused as her eye fell on Serena’s desk. The cup of coffee and pastry were still where she’d left them hours ago. The stoic resolve which was teetering on the edge tipped over at the sight. They had trained her to fall like a judo master in the Army but this was unknown territory. It took large breaths of air as well as vigorous blinking to stop the impending tears from blurring her vision.

_Well done, Wolfe._

It had been a while but she suddenly felt the urge for some nicotine to calm her jangled nerves. If memory served, there was a half-forgotten pack stashed away at the back of her locker.

****

Serena briefly contemplated stopping by the office before changing. She hadn’t been anywhere near it since being summoned by Henrik at the start of her shift. But no. She’d just be faced with more bits of paper demanding her attention and she didn’t have the physical or mental energy to deal with it just now. Instead, she drew a breath and headed straight for the locker room. Her feet had barely rounded the last familiar corner when she heard a loud bang. She peeked in and her eyes instantly widening at the sight.

Not again.

She pinched herself and flinched. No, this wasn’t a bad dream on a loop. Possibly deja vu but it was definitely real. Except, a small voice chirped in her head, this time she had the opportunity to back away and come back later. Serena was still contemplating the option when her mind was made up for her.

Bernie turned round and their eyes met in silence. Serena noticed the scrunched up packet of cigarettes in her hand and Bernie reacted by stuffing it into the pocket of her hoodie.

“I haven’t lit it yet,” Bernie announced spontaneously in spite of how irrelevant and illogical her words were. Little did she know that this would be the catalyst for many a repeated anecdote in her near and distant future.

Serena drew herself to her full height as she made for her locker. “You can do what you like.”

“That’s the theory anyway, isn’t it?” Bernie’s voice faded as her gaze fell on the tiles of the floor, suddenly finding them fascinating.  

Serena looked at Bernie and couldn’t help staring. The golden tumble of blonde at the top of her head reminded her of a halo and, at that very moment, she would have given anything to run her fingers through it.

_Steady on, Serena._

The air in the locker room seemed to have developed a gravitational field of its own because she was finding it increasingly difficult to draw it into her lungs.

“Bernie.”

The single word was barely a whisper out of Serena’s lips but it sounded like a siren in the midst of the fog that was Bernie’s head. She lifted her eyes and cajoled her cheek muscles into what she hoped was a semblance of a smile.

“We need to talk,” Serena said.

Bernie was just about able to squeak her response. “Oh?"

“I’m sorry,” Serena muttered. “I shouldn’t have done what I did and...I certainly don’t go around kissing work colleagues as a matter of course...” She trailed off, a flush rising in her cheeks as she struggled to complete her sentence.

Bernie had never seen a more beautiful sight in her life.

“I…” Serena started again, in hope that she would find the words this time. She blinked, and stared desperately as her mind stubbornly refused to work.

Hope rose in Bernie’s chest. Serena was just as nervous as she was and perhaps, just perhaps, they had been reading from opposite ends of the same page all along. There was only one way to find out. She needed to be brave. She took a deep breath before she spoke. “Serena, stop.”

Serena froze. The bottom of her world fell out with those two simple words. Had she gone so far that there was no way back?

_You stupid, stupid, stupid idiot._

Bernie just smiled. “You don’t hear me complaining do you?”

Her voice was soft and shy and Serena had to steady herself against a locker, her brain aflame at the implication of Bernie’s words. She wondered if spontaneous human combustion wasn’t an urban myth after all. All further thought evaporated from her mind when Bernie closed the space between them with two quick steps.

“Bernie, I…” Serena’s mind flitted back to the words on the screen of her laptop - _I have fallen in love with my best friend_ \- but she dismissed them. It was too soon to say that. It was probably too soon to feel it too, but she’d worry about that later. “I like you.” She paused and shook her head. “No, I more than like you.”

Bernie took another step forward and Serena’s back thudded against the door of a locker. An arm crept round her waist and Serena gasped as she was pulled forward before being falling back against the hard metal again, this time with the delicious weight of Bernie’s torso flush against hers.

Any remaining air in her being was sucked out the moment Bernie lowered her lips onto hers. The first touch was gentle, almost tentative, as if Serena might disappear in a puff of smoke if she applied anything more than the lightest pressure.

Serena had other ideas. She still remembered the taste of Bernie’s mouth from Monday and was impatient for more. She pressed forward eagerly and the sudden movement caused Bernie to stagger backwards. Her hand instinctively reached for the small of Bernie’s back to steady her and she was rewarded with a low groan.

The hem of Bernie’s scrub top brushed against her fingertips and Serena couldn’t resist stealing a hand under it. She had been wondering, since Monday, what the skin of Bernie’s back felt like.

Another groan, this time with roughed-edged with desire, vibrated against Serena’s mouth, causing her to gasp. Bernie pressed her advantage and swiped her tongue against Serena’s lower lip. Her hips shifted forward, releasing her hand to pull at Serena’s top.

Except her hand didn’t move upwards like Serena’s was at the moment, mapping the muscles of Bernie’s back. No, Bernie had other ideas and decided to head southwards, creeping just under the elastic hugging the dip of Serena’s waist.

It was as if Bernie’s fingertips had the ability to transform the sense of touch into fire. A glow of warmth crept instantly up Serena’s spine before settling into a ball of heat deep within her belly.

If this was Bernie just barely touching her, how would she survive when they-

She wasn’t ready for the wave of arousal that instantly followed that thought. Her mind was rapidly being consumed by an inevitable fog. There was just enough time for two random thoughts ring through.

One - they were groping and snogging like schoolgirls and someone could walk in at any moment. Two - she was within a femtosecond of not caring if they did.

They had to stop. For now. Serena drew a ragged breath and pulled her lips away reluctantly.

Bernie’s brain was still shrouded in a mist of desire but clarity gradually returned now that her ability to breathe had been restored. She blinked and smiled before pulling back slightly but seemed unwilling to lose contact with Serena’s body completely. “I more than like you too.”

They stared at each other for a moment, matching smiles gracing their faces.

“Perhaps we should continue this conversation somewhere a little more appropriate,” Serena breathed huskily into Bernie’s ear. “And I do I believe I promised you a drink.”

Bernie drew a shuddering breath and nodded wordlessly. “Albie’s?” she finally managed to croak and was supremely grateful for the fact that Serena’s arm was still wrapped tightly around her waist when she got her reply.

“How about my place?” Serena’s voice dropped an octave. “Jason isn’t back till Sunday.”


End file.
